


this is just another night

by theglitterati



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (not technically but spiritually), Canon Compliant, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, manga spoilers to ch. 369
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati
Summary: Kageyama comforts Hinata after their game against Kamomedai.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	this is just another night

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Get Home" by Bastille.

The lights had been out for five minutes when they heard it: a muffled sob from the room next to theirs. A whimper followed, quieter, but no less heartbreaking.

Beside Kageyama, Yamaguchi sat up. “Is that—”

“Yep,” Tanaka said.

They were still as they listened to Hinata cry. Yamaguchi lay back down. Kageyama gritted his teeth.

It wasn’t like none of them had cried. They all had after the game, Kageyama included. Asahi was still crying when they went to bed. But none of them had wept like this, deep and choking, like it threatened to rip them apart.

A particularly raw sob rang through the room. “Okay,” Sugawara said, “someone needs to— Kageyama? Is that you?”

Kageyama had jumped to his feet before he knew what he was doing. “I’ll go,” he said.

“Oh, well, that’s—”

“You?” Tsukishima said. “Seriously,  _ you’re _ going to go talk to him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Kageyama wished it wasn’t so dark in the room. If he could find Tsukishima’s futon, he was going to step on him.

Sugawara, who Kageyama could see, silhouetted by the window, intervened. “I think he means Hinata might like to talk to someone a little more… sensitive.”

“Just let him try,” Daichi said. “Someone else can go if he screws up.” From the exhaustion in his voice, it sounded like he just wanted them all to be quiet.

Sugawara shrugged. Kageyama took that as permission and put his slippers on. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed his futon and pillow and dragged them out with him.

The door to Hinata’s room was twenty feet down the hall. He broke off in mid-sob when Kageyama flung it open.

“What the—? Who’s— oh, it’s you.” Hinata’s face was red and puffy, tear tracks visible on his cheeks. His hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty clumps. He looked… broken.

“You have to stop crying so loud,” Kageyama said. It came out harsher than he intended. “Everyone can hear you.”

Hinata frowned. “Okay?”

Kageyama nodded, satisfied. He lay his futon on the floor next to Hinata’s and shut the door, plunging them into darkness.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Making my bed.” Kageyama punched his pillow into a comfortable position and lay down.

“You can’t sleep in here,” Hinata said. “I’m sick.”

“So?”

“So you’re gonna get sick, too!”

Kageyama huffed. “It’s not like it matters now, dumbass.” He was probably already infected anyway; he’d been with Hinata more than anyone else this week.

“You’re the dumbass,” Hinata snapped, though the coughing fit he erupted into took the edge off his insult. “Why’d you come over here if you’re gonna be a jerk?”

Was he being a jerk? Kageyama hadn’t realized; he thought it was pretty damn nice of him to stay with Hinata, actually. But he didn’t know the answer to his question. How could he explain to Hinata that listening to him cry felt kind of like someone was spiking a volleyball repeatedly into his chest? Sick or not, Hinata would make fun of him for years.

“Someone had to,” he said instead. “You were keeping everyone up.” Hinata grunted in response, muttering something Kageyama couldn’t hear.

Kageyama rolled over to face him. “Why were you crying?”

Hinata laughed once, bitterly. “Why do you think?” Kageyama squinted at him; in the dark, he could barely make out the outline of his face, let alone his expression.

“We could have won if I didn’t get sick.”

“No, we couldn’t have,” Kageyama said automatically, though he’d been thinking the same thing all day. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, and that was the worst part: they’d never know. But there was nothing they could do about it now.

“We took a set from them,” Hinata said.

“Yeah, one set. It wasn’t just you, we didn’t have Tsukishima either—”

“I know, but—”

“Kamomedai’s really strong.”

“I know that—”

“Then stop feeling sorry for yourself!” Kageyama’s voice echoed in the tiny room. There was movement next door. Crap. Kageyama hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble from Suga. He unclenched his fists and thumped his head against the pillow. “There was nothing we could do,” he said quietly.

Hinata sniffled. “Kageyama,” he said, “are you mad at me?”

“What? No.”

Another sniffle. Another spike to the heart. “I wish you were.”

“That’s stupid. Did you get sick on purpose?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not mad.”

“But I— I screwed everything up.” Hinata was definitely crying again; Kageyama could feel him trembling through the floor. “It was the third years’ last chance, and everyone was c-counting on me, and” — he took a shaky breath — “and the youth camp people were watching you. What if I messed up their impression of you—”

Wait, Hinata was worried about  _ him? _ That’s why he was crying?

Kageyama bolted upright. “Hinata,” he said, firmly enough to quiet him. “You didn’t screw anything up. Nobody’s mad at you— the third years aren’t mad, I’m not mad. And no one’s going to think less of me because of you.” Kageyama bit his lip.  _ How could they, when he wasn’t half as good alone as he was with Hinata? _ “I mean, obviously,” he added. “You’re not even on my level.”

“That’s because I’m way past your level,” Hinata said quickly.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” 

Kageyama waited, listening for more sniffles, but Hinata seemed to have stopped crying.

“You’re really not mad?” he asked.

“No, but I’m gonna be if you keep asking that. Or if you don’t get better soon.” He reached over to where he thought Hinata’s forehead was.

“Ow, that’s my eye!”

“Sorry.” He found his forehead, brushing the hair off of it. “You’re, like, a million degrees.”

“I feel freezing.”

“You should go to sleep. We can’t play again until you’re better.”

“That’s what I was trying to do before you came in here, Bakageyama!”

“Shut up. I helped.” Kageyama lay back down. Instead of pulling his hand back, he let it trail down Hinata’s side, finding his arm on top of the blanket. He wrapped his fingers around Hinata’s wrist; it was so small the tips of them touched.

Hinata tensed up. “Ka-kageyama?”

“I said ‘shut up.’”

He squeezed his eyes closed; he could practically feel Hinata goggling at him. His skin was hot against Kageyama’s palm. Kageyama wondered if he was going to say something, or pull away, but Hinata relaxed under his touch, letting Kageyama anchor him to the ground.

“Goodnight,” Hinata said.

Kageyama smiled. “‘Night, dumbass.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at kyrstin.tumblr.com!


End file.
